


Spartacus Aftermath

by Nesrie, Paladin (Nesrie)



Series: Spartacus Aftermath [1]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Complete, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:51:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nesrie/pseuds/Nesrie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nesrie/pseuds/Paladin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tale begins post-canon, after the series ends. Agron and Nasir start down an unknown path away from nearly all they know. It's my general goal not to alter the events in the series much, if at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I have dabbled in writing fan-fiction. I know I am a little late to the party for this series and pairing, but I wanted to give a go.
> 
> 12/26 - I posted more edited versions of almost every chapter. These are minor corrections, no real content changes.

So much death and loss and despair left behind on the mountains where the Romans had finally thinned out and seemed gone forever from their lives. After they managed to leave the mountains with many of those who survived the last days of the rebellion, things slowed and a new reality took place even as the weather turned for the worst.

 

Nasir lay under the thin blanket, Agron taunt against his back, his heat warming both heart and body. He always pressed Agron’s hand against his chest, held it near his heart when they slept in such a position, back to chest. Agron seemed to sleep, his breath warm against Nasir’s neck, nuzzling his thick, dark hair. During these moments, Nasir massaged his wounded palm, carefully and gradually loosened scarred flesh so as not to cause pain but help keep the muscles pliable and stop the stiffening. He did not know if the gladiator would ever get full use of his hands again, but he tried just the same. The wind whipped around them, their tent long ago having seen better days.

 

“You would stay in the village, take up fishing or maybe fucking sheep.”  
  
Nasir stilled though he did not release the man’s hand. Silence remained dominant for a few moments. “You were not content there, did not find place, and my place is by your side.”

  
They did not argue that subject anymore, not really. Nasir solidified his insistence even if it was true; he would have stayed. As they traveled more and more of the once slaves found a place for themselves, at a farm, in a town or some home in the forest. Others made choices to remain, to rebuild. Maybe the Romans would come, maybe not, but it had been weeks since any had been sighted when the first woman took shelter with a young man smitten by her strength and charm. Then a few children found a home with a couple who had lost theirs to a harsh winter storm and illness, and then the fishing village had lost warriors, many men in distant wars, and were pleased to take more. Nasir did not mind waking from the tent each day there, going to the lake, learning to fish, to speak the strange tongue that was Agron’s, and watching others just… live. When they woke one morning, and Agron had his things slung over his shoulder and began down the road, Nasir did not question him, and did not look back. He followed Agron to the next place, to here but the winds and chill of the rain, it was as if winter renewed itself on the other side of the mountain. They were alone now, and Nasir tried to see a future that he did not understand. He was a body slave and then a fighter amongst brothers who were all but dead now. He did not know what the rest of the world had to offer outside of steel and blood, but he knew where he belonged, right here with Agron.

 

Agron stirred placing his lips against Nasir’s neck and then his shoulder. “It does not hurt anymore when you do that.”

 

Nasir glanced over his shoulder, looking into Agron’s light eyes. “You could have said.”  
  
Agron smiled. “And have stop fussing over me for an hour while you thought I slept, never.”  


Nasir returned the smile, and they exchange a short chaste kiss before he resumed although he took time to curl the man’s fingers a bit, noting some resistance but not nearly as much as there was initially. “I should have known you would begin to wonder why I changed which side I would sleep on some nights.”  
  
“I am not as thick as a Gaul you know.”  


Nasir breathed in quietly, rolling over to face him. It would bring a chill to his back, but he wanted to press his forehead against the man’s shoulder. So much comfort could be gained from such a touch, just a warm embrace. “How long then, how long before you stayed awake to see what I was doing?”  
  
Agron ran his fingers through Nasir’s hair, kissing his brow. “A few weeks after the others were gone. I was so worried about Romans coming, about protecting all of you now that all the warriors were gone I barely noticed much until that visit. If I did not keep watch, I just slept.”  
  
Nasir nipped his shoulder, leaving a temporary mark but no blood. “I can protect myself, thanks to Spartacus, thanks to you. There were still warriors amongst us, still is.” Saying his name hurt, but he also realized he did not know the man’s true name. Nasir had been hesitant to provide his; no that was not right, not truly hesitant. It was not a conscious decision when he told Agron he was called Tiberius because he was called that. It was Agron’s response to the name that surprised him, made him think.  “Crixus would have killed me without him.”  
  
Agron chuckled quietly. “You had fire in you even then, little wild dog. I do not know that I would have stopped then either. I would have killed you.” Nasir shivered then, and Agron’s response was almost immediate, pulling him closer, holding him tight. “I am no fisher.” Agron said. “Or tiller of the earth, or baker or wage driver.” He shook his head, bitterness thick on his tongue.

 

Nasir laced his fingers with Agron’s. “Your grip is stronger now, tighter. I can see it when you grab your bag, when you tighten your laces… when you touch me. We will find another battle then. There is always blood to spill somewhere.”

 

Agron sat-up, looking down at those dark eyes, searching for questions and hesitations he knew would not present themselves without pushing. Often when they parted, by Agron’s insistence, they were left scarred by the experience, almost dead. His hand moved down Nasir’s side, feeling the rough skin that remained ever raised as evidence of his near death. Nasir searched his eyes, questioning not the words just spoken but the touch itself. “You would do that, you would seek out war with me knowing my limitations, knowing that such a life may lead to an early death?”

 

“I have known but two lives Agron. One as a body-slave and one with you. I would choose you always.”

 

Another kiss ensued, but this one was longer, passionate though it led to little more than smiles and lingered warmth. Once Nasir entered obvious slumber, Agron lifted his hand and curled his fingers ever so slightly. Nasir did not lie, and though he could not make a true fist just yet, he felt strength in his hands when there was none but weeks ago. And though he knew Nasir would follow him into war, as he had done in the last battle that they both thought would be their last, he found himself hesitant to lead them that direction again…


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir and Agron seek shelter from a coming storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the editing. I am terrible at editing my own work.

When Nasir awoke, instinctually he knew he was alone and stood quickly, heart beating rapidly in a near panic until he saw the upright stick wrapped with a bit of red cloth nearby. Agron used this as a signal before, to tell him he was near and not gone, soon to return. Nasir did not like this tendency, but he trusted Agron enough to not question the actions, at least not often. Most likely, the man was hunting, tired of their meatless gruel or scouting. He gathered their things, looking up at the angry sky, already feeling a chill in the wind and the rise of its strength. Their badly worn tent would hardly serve purpose on such a night, and they had no coin to get another. He had only begun to fully understand the worth of such things or the need to acquire coin. As a slave, he had no use for coin, but even then he understood they exchanged coin with the pirates and others during the rebellion, but not for small things it seemed, at least not then. Maybe in a war far from here, they could earn enough to save for some purpose, for when Agron grew weary of blood, if he grew weary of it at all. And then the man himself showed up, looking at Nasir as the smaller man wrapped his cloak tightly around him as if such a small thing could ever ward off growing winds.

 

“There is a home not far from here.” Agron said.

 

“Abandoned then, good.” Nasir slung his things over his back, but Agron’s face made him hesitant. “You do not mean to slay them. Are these not your people?”

 

Agron’s expression crossed between anger and annoyance. “Fuck the gods Nasir. No I do not intend to kill these people. They are not Romans, and they are of mine. This place looks… without guards. I would speak to them.”  


Nasir hesitated, following along. “And what do we have to offer that they would let us to shelter?”  


Agron gave Nasir a sideways glance. “I do not know yet. There are some miles between us and where I think my kin reside. I’ll not have us survive those Roman shits to fall to the anger of the gods.” Lightning flashed across the sky as the black clouds rolled in. Then Nasir saw it, the house Agron spoke of although it was large, clearly not that of a simple freeman. He could see a building where horses were kept, covering for logs for fire, and the main dwelling large and impressive, flickering lights seen from inside the wooden and stone structure. “Stay here, I will make words and see if it is safe…”  


Nasir opened mouth wide and hissed angrily. “I will not stand idly by while my lover confronts the unknown alone.” He pressed the blunt end of his spear against the ground audibly. “Agron, we are in this together, whatever it maybe.”  


Agron broke no further words on the matter though his tense back indicated he would have preferred obedience than quarrel. Strange, Nasir thought, the more Agron needed him, relied on him, the more the gladiator seemed to want to protect him, more so than ever during battle in actual war. They approached the large wooden door together, with Nasir slightly behind him since here he appeared the strange one in these lands; Agron pounded palm against the hefty structure, weapon at his side.

 

A woman answered, her hair blonde with a few grey streaks though her face held more youth than age. She wore a long dress and had a dagger at her side which she did not raise. Her eyes moved over the partially dressed men before she began speaking in Agron’s tongue which left Nasir only pieces of the conversation.

 

“It seems,” she began. “That the boys have not returned and strangers are at my door. I suspect if you intended to rape and pillage you would have not placed hand upon door and have proceeded to do so by now. But it also seems you are not from around here or you dress very strangely for it. What do you want?”  


Agron did his best not to glance back at Nasir, and to focus on the woman and any who might not be seen yet. “It will be a cold night, and rain and wind come down upon us already.”

 

“I am no inn.”  
  
The gladiator continued unfazed. He would not back down from harsh words any more than he would sharp steel. “We seek only shelter over our heads, nothing more, as we continue our journey.”

 

She looked past Agron then, noting Nasir and the spear he carried before she clicked her tongue briefly. “And if I refuse?”  
  
“We leave.” It took a lot out of Agron to say that. He was so used to killing to survive and for revenge. The very thought that a single barely armed woman might be the reason behind Nasir shivering another night made his stomach turn, but they had both survived worse.

 

“There are six stalls but only three horses. You are free to use the others for your purposes.” She placed a hand upon the door but paused when it was partially closed. “There are clean blankets near the back you can use.” The door closed.

  
Nasir stepped forward when Agron approached. “She said blankets and free? Did she ask if we were slaves, offer blankets?”  


Agron laughed quietly and gripped his head, pulling him into a kiss. “At least you are trying. We get the stables, come.” For stables, they were well-maintained and the horses already quieted for the night. He knew they could not light a fire in such a place, so he took the four blankets mentioned and readied them, waiting for Nasir to lie down before joining him.

  
Nasir seemed relieved if a little nervous. There was only one way in and out, but Agron knew his people, most likely watched this place all morning before suggesting they try it. He wondered if being free and not at battle meant trying so hard for basic needs, always.

 

Agron drew him close. “We will be dry here. I still have a little bread left and dried fish from the village.”  


Nasir shook his head. “I ate mine. I am fine with what we had this morning. Tomorrow we can hunt. Eat yourself. You cannot go without so long.” He relaxed, the warmth and dryness outweighing any other discomforts. “Do you think she has a family?”  
  
“Maybe. I saw men leave this morning, but there were only three. I would not say they looked like kin. Why?”  
  
Nasir closed his eyes. “I just wondered what it might be like to have family, in a home like this.”

 

“Is that what you want Nasir, a home and a family?” Agron asked quietly.

 

“I told you what I want, to be with you. That is all that matters.”  


“And that is not an answer,” Agron sighed, watching the stable doors. How could he miss the days when Spartacus, Crixus and Gannicus snuck upon them in the night and taught them a lesson about keeping watch? Now he was in a fucking stall lying on hay barely able to hold a sword.

 

Agron found himself drifting off to sleep just a bit when the stable door open. Almost instantly he grabbed for his sword. Maybe he could not grip so well, but he knew he could outmaneuver city men any day. What he beheld though was the same woman he saw earlier only dressed in a hooded cloak and carrying something with her. She approached them with some amount of hesitation before dropping a bag at their feet, then she set down a jug. “Bread and cheese, goat’s milk.” Maybe it showed in their expression, that they were not used to kindness even after so many had chosen to remain in villages, homes and farms that offered just that. They alone continued on.  “You look like you could use more and enough for this night and the morning.” She did not wait for them to respond before retreating again though Nasir sat-up as she did so.

 

“Thank you.”

 

No doubt his words were not perfect and sounded strange to her ears, but she smiled before leaving. Once gone, Nasir hunted through the bag, finding exactly what she said. “Thank the gods, nothing has looked so good in some time.” He offered Agron the bread though the man looked sour. “What is it?”  


“Begging like dogs. I would fight for what we need not… not this.”  


Nasir took the cheese, holding in hand for a moment. “I once fucked for what I needed, and was fucked in return. If you say this worse, then I will believe you and send it back.” Was this worse, he wondered. Had they become beggars? Romans took what they wanted, more than what they needed, and seemed to think the world theirs to command. Slaves took only what was given, and could not even ask for more or better. Now they asked for kindness and received it and the deed, Agron’s idea even, seemed unwanted.

 

“No,” Agron replied and squeezed his shoulder. “Eat, and I will eat with you.” He would swallow his wounded pride for the moment, if only to watch Nasir warm and fed for a night.

 

Nasir did just that though the food tasted slightly less wholesome than he would have liked as thoughts lingered in his mind. He had not felt shame since being freed except when he could not follow the others to bring down the arena. Now, doubt pitted his stomach, uncertainty but nothing as harsh as shame… not yet.

 

“There is no shame in what happened to you Nasir. You know that. No one has really spoken about it I know, but you were slave, you had no choice.”

 

“Do I seem ashamed to you?” Nasir asked curiously chewing the bread a bit. It was maybe a day or two old but it tasted good, and the cheese was strong. “When we are together, do I seem ashamed?”  


Agron smiled ever so slightly; it could be heard in voice even if difficult to see in the near darkness. “No, you seem most skilled in the art but not hesitant or ashamed.”  


“Whatever shame I had before you came died when I became a brother in the woods by fire. It is just I have no memory of Syria. When I walked the streets with dominus, I noticed very little that was not to notice. I was numb to all but his commands.” Agron began to stroke his shoulder ever so slightly as they ate and rain began to hit the stables so hard it made the horses nervous.

 

“Nasir, I do not want to take you to another war. You deserve better. You deserve…”

 

“What I deserve is to be loved and to be in love. That is what I have with you, and I will kill and die to keep it.”  


Agron breathed in deeply and shifted, nearly spilling their food to the hay beneath them as he moved, turning Nasir’s head and body to face him, lips close. “I want you to live. The thought of your death it, it rips my heart. It leaves me breathless. I cannot…”

 

Nasir set aside all thought of food, already satisfied by the richness of what was downed and ran his fingers along Agron’s chest, along his defined abdomen to cup his hidden cock. His eyes locked with those light eyes as he spoke. “I thought you were dead. It tore my world apart, left me hollow and empty and angry.”

 

Agron grunted when those fingers traced him ever so carefully, with the expertise that only Nasir seemed to possess. “You would find another, find a way Nasir as you did with Castus.”

 

This made Nasir frown almost immediately. “There was nothing between us but friendship Agron. I have told you…”  
  
“I know, but there could have been, eventually.”

 

“As there could be with you, should I fall? The heart can mend…”  


Agron kissed him, first lips against forehead, then the scar by his eye and eventually lips themselves. “Ask yourself how close I let others in Nasir. There was Duro, there was Spartacus and there is you. You had heart for Chadara, Naevia, Crixus, Castus, Mira, Spartacus… I fought and killed for Duro, for Spartacus and you. I leant aid for the same, not love of Laeta, not love of Crixus.”

 

Nasir felt pain as those names were spoken aloud, but he knew they should say them, not forget as they found freedom in life and most the others found freedom in death. Still, he lifted his free hand to Agron and whispered to him softly. “I believe you in all things but this. I know your heart, and it is not so cold.” A sly smiled formed. “I am fed, warm, safe and free. I would put mind to better purpose.” He gripped Agron just so through his trousers and received the wanted response, a deep moan, a strangled gasp even.  They kissed again, then fingers moved over armor and laces, anything that held together garments so they could be discarded readily until both bodies were naked in the dark.

  
Wounds healed, bodies strong and able, encouraged by their good fortune this night, Nasir guided them to pursuing physical passion again.  He could feel Agron hesitate now and then, but the curve of his fingers against his cheek, the grip at the back of the neck when his lover demanded another kiss lacked the spasms of pain when he used his hands between them shortly after his return from near death. His motions seemed smooth and without pause, without twist of ache. Nasir’s excitement grew with the knowledge they would be together this night. His fingers moved through the dark hairs just above Agron’s cock and then he ran his fingers along the length.

 

“Fuck minds,” Agron breathed. “I would be inside you.”

  
Nasir nipped at his lip, drawing just a bit of blood though his efforts rewarded him a quick smile. “And I am eager to receive.” He gathered the moisture at the slightly open tip of his lover’s cock and spread it liberally along the length. Ideally there would be more, but Nasir needed very little to want to be with Agron after so long a journey and so little lust between them. He twisted, reaching back, splaying his fingers over Agron’s powerful thigh pulling him closer. He felt the hard flesh part and then press against him easing, inside drawing another hiss from deep within. He could feel Agron’s strength as he thrust forward, again and again. Injury had not weakened him, not for long. He grabbed Agron’s hand squeezing tightly, biting into those strong palms with his fingers hard enough that his lover actually paused.

 

“Did I hurt you?”

 

“I’ll fucking hurt you if you stop,” Nasir murmured and hissed, pressing back.

 

Agron’s entire body shook with quieted laughter; he needed no more encouragement. Breathing became more difficult as the man increased his speed, plunging into the offered warmth of his little lover. He gripped Nasir’s neck firmly, turning him sharply so their lips would meet again. His commanding thrusts forcing loud gasps from those fine lips. What pain there was, only inflamed the experience between them. It had been so long, too long. Agron filled him, and Nasir felt as if the night should not end.

 

He laid his sweat glistening head upon Agron strong arm, feeling the man pull him taunt against his body.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron is presented a choice, but will his pride allow him to even consider it?

Come morning, Agron stirred, touching Nasir’s shoulder and whispering words of comfort before he ventured to the house, sword at his side to speak to this woman again. He found her outside near the well, and she turned to him without fear, eyes steady. She placed the bucket near the stone and waited for him to come nearer. “Your eyes are purposeful today, steady and angry. Was the food not well received?”  


“It was much appreciated. You have no fear of us being here.”  
  
“I think I know of where you come. Word travels, slowly, but it comes eventually. If you meant to kill me, you would have done so already.”

 

“Your men came back last night, drunk, stumbling. They did not notice our tracks or that we are here.”

 

“I told the one when he informed me of their return that you were here and to leave you alone.”  
  
“They offer poor protection.”

 

Her fingers moved along her fine dress. “And you would offer better?”

 

Agron straightened his chin. “For more than a stall and food.”  


She regarded him carefully. “They have homes nearby, though most stumble to town a bit away for drinks. But I will pay you the same coin I pay them, and the stall and the food to guard my home.”

 

Agron tried to control his temper, but negotiations were not his strength. He felt frustrated in this situation already, and they had but bartered a moment.

 

She approached him, regarding his sword but looked up to his eyes. “You asked for assistance, and I gave it to one of my kin. You ask for work, and I offer it as I would offer to anyone who is free here. If you want more, than put voice to your desires. I cannot guess them.”  
  
Agron crossed his arms a spoke. “A place where a fire can be lit, where we can…”  


She turned from him and ran her fingers over the stone. “I had love once, a man who would die for me and children. They were taken from me some time ago. I see the light in your eyes, you and the other one. He is not from here but you come together; you are together.  I know that flame. If you seek to make home in these lands, you should acquire more, tools, a horse, and supplies for the first winter.  Come.” She motioned for him to follow, and Agron did so reluctantly, looking behind him at the stables though he doubted those men she called her protection had awoken from their wine induced slumber.  She lead them about five minutes casual walk behind the house to another building, the roof partially caved in, front door crooked, and evidence of animals inside though none stood there now. “This would have served purpose had a child lived to leave the house before venturing to a place their own.”

 

“I do not seek to live under anyone’s rule.”  


“And I do not offer it. Stay here, earn your coin, and earn your way as free men must do when they have so little. Fix it as you wish. Your first week I will provide you a chest, the second tools to help rebuild this place, both you can take with you. After that coin and food for services provided.”  


Agron frowned. “A much better offer than your first, but we have nothing else to offer.”  


“But you do. Stand guard for me, and minor tasks, and some nights I am lonely.”

 

“I will not bed you.” His neck tensed with the rest of his body, nearly infuriated by the suggestion though he forced himself to remain calm and not think of the Romans, of those who would force such attentions from any they desired.  
  
She smiled, laughed even though she had to see he was hardly amused. “And that I do not ask. You have not the patience to hear offer it seems.”  


He breathed in deeply, frowning still but managed to hold his tongue.

 

“I would watch you and the other in my house, to remind of days past. Take my offer, and have sense, two springs from now you will be ready to find your place and build it. Refuse it and take the first if you so desire. Wage, stalls and food remain offered.”  
  
“We will not whore for you.”  
  
“Is it whoring if no one touches you but your lover?”  


“I will not do it.”  
  
She shook her head and walked back towards the house. “Think upon it. No one forces you, but I will have answer by evening meal.” The woman paused. “Answer and first exchange.”  


Agron looked at the structure longer and then returned to the stall where Nasir had undone his hair and ran his fingers through it trying to get the hay out from the night before. He smiled at the taller man as he arrived. “Hay is certainly softer than the ground, especially wet ground but it seems I have made a mess of myself.”  
  
Agron approached. “Let me.” He took the tie from Nasir’s hand and began to work the small pieces from the dark hair. “I spoke to the woman of this place; she is alone it seems except those worthless cunts she would call guards.” He felt Nasir tense a bit, no doubt thinking they were about to commit some act of violence, shift from rebels to criminals but Agron continued. “She has made an offer for us to stay.”  
  
Nasir turned to him, his hair loose, around his neck and partially over his shoulder. It had been sometime since Agron saw him so wild looking, and he did not mind the view at all, such nice dark skin in light or darkness deserved longer pause. “What does she offer, and what must we do?”

 

“Her guards are pitiful, poor warriors and watchmen at best. We can do better, and she offers the same for wage as they have, and the stall and food.”  


Nasir smiled almost instantly. “A fair bargain for now. Perhaps in time we can show her our worth is far greater…” His smile dimmed at bit when he noticed Agron’s displeased expression. “She insulted you?”  
  
“You would be content then, to live in this stall with animals?”  
  
“Paid for our work, free to leave. Is that not what free men do?” Nasir asked, honestly, peering up at the man. “And we stay together?”

 

Agron ran his fingers through his hair to cup Nasir’s cheek and kiss him. “It is but…”

 

“Voice words Agron...” He ran his fingers along Agron’s shoulders. “Voice words and let the weight of them be lifted from your shoulders and shared.”  


“There is another offer. But I am loathe to speak of it, angry to think it. I would have a house, not some stall like an animal.”  


“Then let us leave this place. Thank her for her kindness and go. We will find a place of our own, build a house.”  
  
“And do you know how to do this, build a house Nasir, arrange crops in the ground, fucking sheep. They teach you that with cock in mouth and ass?” Agron pulled away angrily, but at himself, not his lover and not really this woman.

 

Nasir straightened himself a bit, trying to quell his anger. Something clearly tore at the German but the man was too thick to just say it. Instead Agron turned anger to unkind words instead. “No, but they did not teach this either.” He motioned to his spear. “Or love, or bravery or courage, vengeance. I learned that from you and others. I will learn these other things too, like you will. We will learn together.”

 

Agron gave him a reluctant glance. “And be cold, hungry maybe sick for our efforts. It is better to learn these things now, before we go.”  


Nasir curled his fingers into a fist, but he stilled his beating heart from the anger rising.  He had to piece together this offer rather than have the man just say it. “Is that what she offers then, to teach these things? At what cost? Agron, tell me what stirs your heart?”  


Agron shook his head starring at their meager pile of hay and blankets in rising fury. “You do, and only you, but this woman would watch us like those Romans watched gladiators from high above.”  
  
“Or a dominus and his body slaves?” Nasir questioned cautiously.  
  
Agron glanced over his shoulder. “You know what I speak?”  


“You do not have a problem brandishing sword in front of others, so it must be a sword of another kind that moves you so.” Nasir chuckled quietly.

 

“You think this is a fucking joke?” Agron turned on him but Nasir was already there, palm against the man’s exposed chest.

 

“Not a joke. Calm your fire for a moment Agron. You have been growling at me since you entered the stall. After last night I thought you might be more…”  


Agron’s eyes softened. He carefully gathered the dark strands to apply the tie. “I have not forgotten last night. I know it has been sometime.”  


“We have had our pleasure... in small moments.”

 

“Dampened by my injuries.”  


“No less loved.” Nasir was hesitant to broach the subject again when Agron’s touch and words had become so tender again.  “Agron, I would not have misery for ease. I would follow you in this, but know that I have done far more under watchful eyes than what is being asked for now. And there is but one that I have touched and has touched me since. If this does not change this truth, then I would do it if you think it will secure future together.”  
  
Agron swallowed thickly. At least in battle, enemies were easy to spot and target. In this, he did not know the right path, even if every bone in his body suggested he either kill someone or flee from the choice at hand. “We have until this evening to make choice. Let us wash and survey the area until then.”

 

They exchanged a kiss, and Nasir gathered their things, folding their blankets and preparing the morning meal. Only when Agron was gone did he pause the task at hand to reflect what was said, only then did distant memories resurface and doubt arise. Spartacus did not rip collar from neck for this sort of life, but he never promised a calm path either. He wished he had any of them now, anyone with memory of freedom outside of war who could help guide Agron to a good choice when Nasir could not, not when he would give anything to be with Agron, be it life or body… just not freedom.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Nasir investigate the nearby area, find out a snippets about each other as they do.

For most the day, hardly a word was spoken between them. Agron spotted tracks of deer in the area, and though the animal would not present the challenge and violent battle a warrior would offer, he knew the former gladiator sought blood.  A part of Nasir wanted to take him from this place, to go find some war or conflict the man could join. He thought about the hilt of the sword. If he added more strips of leather around it, it would provide a thicker mass for Agron to grip. Certainly the weapon would become heavier, but Agron could learn with a heavier blade. They took what they could, armor, sword, and horse from what they found in the field; the man was not picky with what he would use. The other part of him, the part of him that could still remember days without wounds and blood kept his tongue silent. Could they have quiet days without the fear and blood and violence, outside slavery?

 

“Fuck the gods Nasir.”  
  
Agron ran up to him looking at him as if Nasir had forgotten clothes or lost his mind entirely.

 

Nasir raised himself from kneeling, resting on his spear. He glanced around, shrugging. “I do not see why you quarrel with me. I am waiting at appointed location.”

 

The tall man let out the most exasperated sigh. “You let it run right by you. I chased it right to you. There it goes!”  


Nasir scratched the back of his head, looking a little sheepish. “Mind lost in thought, a little.”  


Agron frowned at him, peering down at the man. “And what were your thoughts that you cost us some good meat tonight?”  
  
Nasir glanced over his shoulder, noting the deer run out of sight. “Thoughts, thoughts of distant past… future.”  
  
Agron folded his arms.  “Future looks hungrier than I remember when I ran into those woods over there.”  


Nasir stood and gave the man a quick pat on the shoulder. “We will find another. I promise.”  
  
Agron huffed but paused before following. “Are you not going to tell me about the future?”  
  
Nasir slapped him on the thigh. “You think me an oracle that I can lift the clouds and show you?”  
  
Agron grunted. “Fucking Syrians.”

 

Nasir hissed at him playfully and ran into the forest. Days like these, he could use more of. The storm from the night before had settled to a grey cool day, but no rain and less wind made for a fine outing.  He took note of new tracks, and as he did, he thought about the travel over the mountains, how difficult it had been for Agron those early days. Wounds still fresh, hands too stiff for anything but carrying a shield. The man could only eat from a bowl, unable to grip even his food. The small dark man knew better than to try and feed him, or keep him from watch, or suggest anything as menial as staying back while the rest of them scouted ahead. Agron was a stubborn ass, quick to fury and rage, and loved beyond measure. Little things he could do then, help remove armor as they had done before injury, cool baths. Gradually, the man improved; slowly he started laughing again and speaking to others. Nasir paused then, remembering how they would tell stories over the fire, calm frightened women and children who still dreamed of Romans coming in the night to slay them all. They were all gone now, taking their paths away from them, back to remembered homes or new ones found.

 

He kneeled, looking at a curious track as he considered something he had not thought of before. Losing them, had that left a toll on Agron? The last of them staying in a fishing village, looking for new families, new purpose meant they would not travel where Agron meant to go. Could the man actually miss the weak ones he once found as little more than a burden. Had he hoped for more to come with them but never asked, but never took heart enough to actually ask?

 

He heard the branch crack before the bushes parted, turned almost immediately but had never set his eyes upon something so large in his life. It was massive and burly, greater than any man he had seen. It roared at him, a loud guttural sound, the hulking form shifting to its hind legs to stand even taller. Nasir was quick to move, had always been quick to move though he did not recall finding himself at such a loss in a fight. This was no man, and no one trained him to fight a beast like this. He had almost forgotten Agron was near, since his instinct was not to seek help but hold his own. The man made a quick appearance though he did not move to strike it. Instead, the gladiator stood tall and roared himself, or at least it sounded similar enough to make Nasir pause. Agron did it again, and then again, and motioned with his chin for Nasir to continue towards him.   
  
Hissing slightly, he did just that and turned, watching the two face each other down. Taking confidence from Agron’s approach, he did the same, raising spear and shouting at the animal who backed away slowly and seemed to lose interest. Nasir did not even realize how heavily he breathed until Agron gave his arm a brief tug. “Come let us leave the area. It would seem we do not hunt alone.”  
  
Once they were in the clearing, Nasir regained wit and tongue. “That was a bear!”  
  
Agron laughed, though his pale eyes showed worry amongst other things that indicated to his lover he was not brushing off the encounter as easily as his laugh made it sound like he did. “Well, the others wondered about your wit for a while. I shall tell them in the afterlife you do you have a pair of eyes.”  
  
Nasir hissed at him and tried to calm his breathing. “I have heard of the creature, but I never saw one.”  


Agron glanced over his shoulder and almost casually nudged Nasir to continue back to the house. “They have been known to be in the arena for added sport.”  


Nasir turned to him. “It must not surprise you that Romans are not prone to take their body slaves to sport. I never saw a fight, the arena or you until that… day.”  
  
Agron looked torn between wanting to speak to Nasir but at the same time not reveal his worry and fear that the beast would appear again. “Come, walk with me.”  


Nasir followed. “Did you fight one?”  
  
“No, but I heard of it. They starve the beasts, make certain they’ll go for the kill and then end the creature itself in the end.”  


“How did you know? How did you know what do with it?”  


Agron was thankful the creature would not be stealthy enough to come up behind him so he placed a hand on Nasir’s shoulder, squeezing. “I remember, as a boy, with my brother and my father that we came across one. My father said we did not have men enough to hunt and kill it. He said make yourself big against your enemies, even a bear, and they will tremble.”  


Nasir marveled at the memory, at even the idea that Agron would have them clear enough to speak of. His were fleeting, distant with only glimpses at a place he could not even describe with such pale images, and broken words he could only fashion together enough to draw a few names, a few moments. He grinned. “And you were not afraid.”  
  
Agron looked at him, shocked. “Terrified. If a man could swallow his heart, I did so back there seeing that beast so near you.”

 

Nasir curled his lips ever so slightly. He had not seen that look upon Agron’s face in some time. “I am not so helpless you know.”  
  
“Might as well been a monster fighting you.” Agron shook his head, pushing Nasir further though he found resistance against the effort. “But I know. You’ve bared teeth almost from the moment I saw you. I cannot imagine how you managed to keep such spirit living in that place.”

 

Nasir shrugged briefly though he frowned. “I had not always been there you know. For many years yes, but not always. I was barely more a child when I was put to collar. There I found quiet, comfort, luxuries…”  


“You miss it?”  
  
Nasir gave him a sharp look. “Not in the way you ask. It was fleeting. Spartacus was right. One word, one displeasure and it could all be gone and my life, like what happened to Naevia.” He felt guilty about that, sometimes. She was there but a short time, and Nasir took no notice of her, offered no respite. Was that not also Spartacus’ teaching, no one too small, too low to ignore? He hesitated. “Would you, would you think of less me if I said there are some things I missed?”  
  
“Only if you would think less of me for missing arena sometimes?” Agron replied almost immediately, absent thought. “Come let us get further from this place and find a higher ground to rest.”  


They found a hill some distance from the house and the bear, which gave Nasir a chance to rest on the hilltop and look at the country that would be home now, was already home, Agron’s home. It was beautiful, expansive, untamed.

 

Agron fussed a little with Nasir’s hair, just to keep his fingers busy. “What do you miss Nasir, about that place?”  
  
Nasir smiled briefly. “Would you command me to tell you?”  
  
The humor was lost on Agron because he felt too much right now, and it was not the anger or the fury that fueled him for so long. “You know I would not.”  
  
Nasir glanced over his shoulder and then sighed. “Only a jest if a poor one.” He rested an arm on his knee. They had an hour maybe before rain would come again. “Hot baths, soft beds… better dreams.”  


“Dreams?” Agron paused, drawing Nasir close to his warm body, wrapping his arms around the dark, defined chest. “You have ill dreams?”  


“When I close my eyes I see their faces.”

 

Agron nodded in understanding. “Friends, loved ones departed. I too see them.”  


Nasir remained quiet. “… Enemies slain.”

 

Agron gripped his chin gently but firmly, coming as close to commanding Nasir as he had come since their days in the captured city to face him. “But you sought Roman flesh; you are eager in battle, no hesitation...”

 

“And I would still be if we had…” That wound remained fresh and open. The rebellion failed, and he would have seen blood and steel taken to the heart of Rome. “It is a heavy thing to rob a man of life, you said once.”

 

“Less so of a Roman shit.” Agron kissed him gently and Nasir smiled returning that kiss, fingers moving to his neck and pulling, encouraging further attentions.

 

When they parted, again, breathless, Nasir whispered. “I kill because they would kill me, raised sword or not. I was marked for death by the Romans the moment gladiators killed the dominus of that villa. I kill because they would kill you. I kill because…” He started listing names in his head: Chadara, Mira, and Naevia… Spartacus. “Not because I like it.” Agron’s worried expression struck a chord in his heart so he tried to lighten the mood a bit. “But I did get pretty good at it did I not?”  
  
Agron breathed in deeply. “I could not be prouder, but I would empty mind of cruel enemy faces and fill with better memories.” He stroked his hair, so sleek and black. He loved it, no matter how impractical it was for battle. “We should return soon. Rain comes and we have a night to… prepare for.”  



	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron laments his choice, but Nasir reminds him it is not choice alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, apologies for not having a beta reader. I will admit this one has a fair amount of... smutt in the mix but also some plot movement...

Agron leaned against the open door to the stalls, ignoring the quiet sounds of the restless animals behind him. He watched the rain fall, arms crossed. He did not enjoy all this time left alone with his thoughts. He preferred the time he spent pointing at maps, understanding Spartacus’ limitless plans, even the fucking Gaul was preferred to this… and those emotions left him feeling guilty. He should have been happy to be here with Nasir, his easy smiles so readily offered, his touch equally welcome as lover or caregiver, and his eagerness. Was there anyone ripe enough to move on and learn as Nasir was, as he had always been from the moment they forced his eyes open. No, not we, he. Agron did not make that first move, Spartacus put faith in him. He wanted the man now, not to fight as brother but to ask him the things he could have asked him a long time ago… how to move on when they failed? He never did because failure always lead to the same result, the wanted result, death. If not freedom, death, that drove him alongside acts of revenge. Now, now he stood in the stalls listening to Nasir’s quiet sleeping sounds.

 

Nightmares, the smaller man said, he had nightmares of the men he slew. Agron spent countless nights with Nasir, never heard a sound, barely felt a tremble or a rise to indicate such an experience. How many night had he been away, planning and fighting maybe to miss such signs. Spartacus said Nasir had been almost silent when the hot blade touched his flesh, scarred him for life. Even with stick in mouth, many men would not be able to say the same. And now, maybe he had grown accustomed to living in silence, ever knowing their enemies were not far behind. A brief smile formed, though a quiet lover Nasir had never been, no more than he was a quiet fighter.

 

A dark cloud formed in his mind again at the very thought of sharing that with someone else, that hiss, that bright smile when they were together, deep kisses. “Would I have a sword and enemy to point to,” he muttered, looking at the house he had found and suddenly wishing he had found nothing at all. Could misery and cold taste nearly as bitter as making a choice he did not know to be sound? He was not one to share.

 

Nasir stirred and that pulled Agron from growing anger. “How long I have been resting?”  


“A couple of hours, no more. It is dark now.”  
  
“Apologies. I meant only a short rest.” Nasir stood surveying the area as any good warrior would before wiping his eyes and approaching with a smile. “I thought you said you would join me shortly?”  
  
Agron smirked briefly. “I intended to, but I found standing here restful enough, out of the rain but still able to listen to it.”  
  
Nasir ran his fingers along Agron’s upper-arm. “You do not have to do this Agron. We do not have to do this. We still have choice. We can go, or we can stay, or we can choose not to take this deal.”  


Agron gripped Nasir with splayed fingers and pressed his lips warmly against Nasir’s. “The gods gave us a future together. I be a fool to throw that away for blood and sand, or pride.”

 

Not one to back down, Nasir’s dark eyes peered directly into Agron’s gaze. “I do not jest Agron. We can stay, just long enough to buy supplies, a new tent, blankets, and we can leave. We do not have to linger here longer than necessary. We have gotten by with less and in worse.”

 

Their foreheads pressed together, Agron spoke quietly again. “Truth be told, we have little to offer the world for skills.  We both can fight, and I would not have you sell the art of your other… offerings to anyone but me. Survival we know, but I would, I would have us have more.”  


A light chuckle formed from Nasir’s chest and mouth. “You fuck as a god now remember? I am not the only one with such… art to sell.”  


Agron could not help but laugh. “Evidence given, remember.”  


Nasir’s expression hardened and became more serious. “This will not lessen what we have Agron, what you helped give us. I swear to you.”  
  
Agron stood erect again, a smile still pulling on his lips. “Is that a promise like finding us a deer when all brought was a bear or a promise I might hold on to?”  


The Syrian stomped the other’s foot, hard though Agron barely grunted from the effort. “I will find you a deer, bring it to you even so you can skin and clean the beast yourself. Now this woman, what name might I call her so when we greet it is perhaps less awkward than it feels now.” The larger man’s mouth opened, closed and then opened again. He looked well, puzzled and then a bit sheepish. Nasir grabbed his sword and spear, not willing to be far from either, and turned to face his lover. “You have not asked for a name. Have you given any?”  
  
“Well, I guess I did not. I mean it seemed…”  
  
“Haaa,” Nasir voiced his frustration. “You have the manners of a… of a…”  


“Gladiator?” Agron offered and was rewarded by a sharp glare for it.

 

“I cannot speak for us Agron. I do not know the words. You must ask her name and give ours.”  
  
Agron huffed. “I do not like this woman. Why should I wish her name?”  
  
“She provides shelter, coin and place to hunt and gather.”

 

“Of which we earn. We are to work for her.”  


“It is not yet earned, but she provides. Name is a small price for that even if her request is uncomfortable. You WILL tell her Agron. And do not think I will not recognize our names from your lips.”  
  
Agron offered no more debate which meant his consent as much as a verbal agreement would. Nasir offered him bread but it was declined. “I will not tonight. I ate some this morning.”  
  
Nasir only nodded. He had to pick his battles, and this was not one of them. The man ate fish and bread most likely he intended to keep for Nasir’s behalf and ate last night and this morning. They had gone on less for longer. “Wine then, ask her for wine. It will be easier for you with wine.”  


“But not for you?”  
  
Nasir ran his fingers absent mindedly along his neck. “Collar is distant memory, but not so distant that I cannot do this for us.”

 

Agron clasped Nasir’s shoulder. “Your words anger me for I would have them gone from memory entirely.”

 

Nasir tilted his head a bit to the side. “Faces of my enemy, my time as body slave, Agron do you intend to leave my mind void of all thought but you?”

 

The taller man snorted, but did not give immediate reply. After a pause, Nasir gripped Agron’s hand and pulled him towards the house gently as if he guided a lamb to slaughter.

 

The woman greeted them, looking between Nasir and Agron who both returned her gaze with unwavering eyes.

 

“Come, I have prepared a place.” She led them into the house. It was large on the outside, and equally impressive within except signs of age had begun to show. One of the wooden beams looked cracked, a bench in the corner broken, but a fire burned hot nearby and fur laid before it. The woman wore a light robe, white and grey, a cup in hand and a jug nearby with another clay cup next to the fire.

 

Nasir looked at Agron expectantly, even giving him a gentle nudge forward. The tall man, tense as he was in a room that flickered with shadows before a woman he barely knew to perform such an act, managed to comply with his lover’s wishes. “You say this is for memories past, memories of love lost. We too have lost many in recent memory. I am Agron and this dark one is Nasir from Syria.”  


She sat upon a bench nearby, sipping wine. “Agron and Nasir, welcome to my home. I am called Felda. Please, sit, drink wine and take your time.” She offered the jug.

 

Nasir looked to Agron when his lover turned his back to her.  “Felda, her name is Felda. She bid us drink wine and take time.”   
  
“Then let us do so, come.” Nasir knew this path better than Agron ever could. He pulled Agron’s hand and led them to the fur. “Do not focus on her, focus on me.” Purposefully, Nasir took their weapons and placed it near the fire, furthest away from her. Then he worked most of their garments from their bodies, leaving only meager pieces to remove after wine. He poured a cup of wine, watching the fire dance off the tall frame, strong, so very strong. He drank deeply and then offered the cup to Agron who took it but did not drink. “Agron, eyes on me.” He whispered again when he saw his lover glance behind them. Nasir purposefully positioned their bodies so he would face her, not the gladiator. He knew Agron would hate that, to have his back turned towards someone he deemed might be enemy still, but not hate it as much as watching her view their love.

 

“Drink.” Nasir encouraged, smiling as a gesture of comfort. He ran his fingers along Agron’s palm and then arm before standing, watching Agron comply while he removed the remainder of his clothing so he stood naked before the two of them. He saw the tension rise in Agron, as the man struggled with trying to appreciate his body and wanting to shield him from prying eyes, but Nasir moved with ease, showing Agron he meant it. Then he kneeled, pressing lips against lips and then neck and finally ear. “I know no shame Agron, being with you. Be with me and know no shame.”

 

Agron downed more wine, directly from the jug and let it roll to the side, spilling the contents. His expression hardened but not against his lover. No, he remembered how Nasir approached the unknown, things that frightened him, with teeth bared and strength. That he would remain on this soft fur, almost unable to raise an arm because some woman watched behind him was madness. Even as a gladiator, there was more to life than blood and sand. He had been touched before, worshipped before, used before although he did not share these things with any but his brothers all long gone from this world. He knew in that moment, he needed to share more with Nasir, to admit thoughts not spoken, to reveal injured heart and memories.

 

Enemies slain.

 

His lover’s dreams were interrupted not by the fear of Romans coming, or the ideal of freezing or starving to death in winter, but the faces of those whose blood ran along his sword. He would wash those memories with love, with passion, and with hope. When Nasir reached for his lingering garments, Agron shook his head, drawing some concerned noise from Nasir in return although they both fell silent when he stood and stepped out of them himself. Nasir might have pulled him by hand to this moment, but he would seize it and make it theirs. Instinct might pull Nasir into falling onto comfortable path, but not with Agron there, not while his heart beat for this little man before him.

 

They kissed, passionately, deeply though Agron felt himself a bit more forceful than usual. He plunged his tongue deep into Nasir’ mouth, held his neck with hands that felt stronger in this moment than they had for weeks before. When they parted, breathless and dark eyes peered up at Agron, he saw uncertainty rise within those dark pools. So often Nasir tempted him, seduced him, guided him from light hearted banter and brief moments of pleasure into raging passion that Agron felt he had to lead them, had to show Nasir he too was committed to their future and to him, and to show this bitch behind him she might watch them, but she would never control them; no one would. Nasir belonged to him.

 

Agron drew closer, taking Nasir’s hand and placing it on his cock. “Keep mind with me. I would have you, and not your empty self in this.” Do no retreat into the role of slave, he almost said. Do not make the motions just for view.

 

Nasir perhaps surprised him a little when he smiled and stroked him, skillful fingers working from base to tip and base again, circling around the hardening mass and dipping down just a bit to toy at the base of his balls. “Never intended less.” This time Nasir grasped his neck and pulled him into a kiss with his free hand, working the man to full attention with the other. Agron seemed always an eager lover, hot blooded in battle and in bed, and Nasir met him on both fronts eagerly.

 

The smaller dark man pulled Agron forward sharply, sending them both sprawling in the same direction. Having such a large man land on top of him forced the air out of his lungs, but as soon as he recovered, Nasir hissed with a wide smile on his face.  “So the man East of Rhine can be surprised.”  


For at least a moment, Agron forgot where they were and why. He allowed himself to fall into the warmth and joy that was to be in Nasir’s presence when the man was eager and happy. “Clever strategy, but not from behind” He grinned.

 

Nasir gently kissed him again. “Clearly not…” He ran his fingers along Agron’s smooth back. So much damage on the front of the man’s body but so little along these defined shoulder muscles and that spine. He felt the larger man shudder in pleasure as he tantalized along those middle bumps until he could grab the man’s ass tightly and pull forward, their heated, hot flesh pressed between them. Gasping, grinning and somehow still managing to speak, Nasir gripped the man’s ass. “I would have you inside me, Agron.”

 

Agron merely returned the grin, watching the fire dance off and in those dark eyes while he propped himself up with one strong hand and used the other to move down Nasir’s well-defined chest pausing to linger over the coarse skin of his most prominent scar. Often he paused there, to caress and remember how close he came to losing what he had only just found out of stubbornness and misplaced anger.  “Patience,” he murmured pressing lips against Nasir’ brow while he fumbled around for the oil he had tucked in his too soon discarded clothing. He found it easily enough, retrieved it, but expression fell a little when he tried to open the small vial and found he could not do so. Two hands yes, but what was once easy stilled him in his path now when allowed to use only one.

 

Nasir moved then, too quickly to allow Agron to shift position to get what he wanted and instead, his strong dark hand covered Agron’s, not moving, just squeezing until their eyes met again. A smile rewarded his reluctant gaze, and Nasir took the little vial, holding so much promise of joy and sorrow and removed the stopper. Liberally, he coated his fingers and then set it aside. “Let me,” the Syrian purred, reaching between them to coat their cocks, his mostly for fun.

 

Whatever thoughts Agron dwelled on were soon parted by the careful and masterful application of oil. Nasir played with him now, he knew, applying oil liberally between, cock and balls, his inner thighs and even along his abdomen. He growled in need and pleasure, breathing in deeply until he at last grasped Nasir’s hands firmly. “Enough else be denied your desire.”

 

Ideally, there would be more preparation, more touching and exploration but they were stronger and used to quick fleeting moments when presented opportunity; Agron could not see himself lasting for too long with continued touch. He guided himself between Nasir’s offered body and pressed in gradually, listening to his love’s drawn out groan in response. He continued slowly though he knew soon Nasir would punish him if he lingered too long. With Nasir’s legs draped on either side of him, fingers clutching soft fur, Agron moved his hand to grasp strong thighs and began to thrust forward firmly, steadily, feeling the hot flesh grip him tightly and reluctantly release him with each withdrawal. Moving together, gasping, low moans escaping their lips and grunts, this came naturally. No amount of injuries or doubts, limitations took away from the minutes spent with their bodies moving together.

 

Their lips met again, pressing, sucking and biting in pro-longed and fleeting kisses. Agron moved his hand to tangle in Nasir’s hair gripping against his scalp, pulling on a wad of hair so he could nuzzle and nip at the now exposed neck. And then he found that spot, that thing inside Nasir that made him squirm and buck. His fingers lost their grip on that strong thigh for a moment, but Agron’s determination did not fail him. He regained grasp and continued, feeling Nasir’s hand cover his, firm and confident until alas Agron spilled his seed deep inside his lover, holding still as he did so, neck, back and arms taunt in the effort.

 

Agron opened his eyes again; Nasir guided their hands together between their glistening bodies, stroking Nasir’s still hard flesh though it did not take long for Nasir to hiss his pleasures and thrust up sharply while doing so. He loved that sound, so easily sounded in pleasure, battle and jest.

 

Once they stilled their beating hearts and rapid breathing to calmer levels, Agron kissed Nasir’s brow and lips, his mouth opening to say something when he realized once again, they were not alone. He stiffened instinctually, glancing over his shoulder only to see that the woman was not in sight, her wine cup discarded and a blanket pooled where she sat.

 

Nasir sat-up, lightly touching his shoulder. “Do you think she is… displeased?”  
  
“I do not fucking care what she is.” Agron seemed annoyed as was his typical response when uncertain, but instead of skulking or walking away, he grabbed the nearby blanket to cover their bodies after taking a moment to toss more wood on the fire. There was not a lot of wood here; she would need more he realized.  
  
Grunting he turned to venture back to Nasir’s side when he stopped in his track, noting the smaller man gazed at him with a wide grin on his face. “What are your thoughts?”  
  
“You are so beautiful.”  


Agron smiled and climbed back down, wrapping Nasir in strong arms while he cleansed them. Once they lied together before the flickering fire on a warm fur, he nuzzled Nasir’s hair as they settled for the night. Yes, he wanted more nights like these. “Do not ever scare me again like you did today with that bear,” he murmured.

 

“I will do my best.” Nasir chuckled quietly, and as Agron felt sleep claim him, he also felt strong fingers pressing against his palm, massaging away the ache of flesh and heart.


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Nasir are presented with their first task; Nasir is not entirely pleased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is quite a bit shorter than the other chapters, but I think it sets up the next one pretty well, and has a few worthwhile moments.
> 
> As usual, apologies for the lack of a beta reader/editor.

Agron woke first, as he usually did, hearing movement nearby. Nasir stirred but he placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “Rest longer, it is only Felda.” He could hear the swish of her skirt. After a brief sleepy nod from Nasir, he dressed and ventured to the other room where the woman kneaded bread and had eggs piled in a bowl on the table. She also sliced roots of some kind though she paused when the large man approached.   
  
Without a word, she turned the blade and set it on the table. “Can you take this and slice the roots more.”  


Agron hesitated, taking the handle though he could not grip it so. “I…”

 

“I know you cannot. I saw it last night.”  
  
His nostrils flared. “I can still offer more protection than those cunts you call guards out there.”  


Felda pulled the knife back and looked at him a moment. “I did not say otherwise. Swords are far less dainty than a little knife to grab.”

 

Agron glowered at her. “You could have asked instead of offered a trick like a… like a…”  


“A Roman perhaps?” Felda regarded him patiently though she did not respond to the rising tension or anger radiating from his form. “And you could have offered information relevant to our arrangement. No matter, the deal stands. I am pleased by what I saw last night.”  
  
“You did not stay for the…” He found himself at a loss of a word to best describe what she left in the middle of.

 

She slid the bread on the wooden slab and placed it over the fire. “I saw enough.”  
  
“But many who view such things do so to find pleasure themselves, and I heard nothing from your lips.”

 

Her eyes regarded him sharply. “I am no Roman woman. I did not ask for such a display to pleasure myself.”

  
Agron fell quiet. He did not understand her intentions then but decided to change subject. “I see your wood stores are low. I will see to it you have more.”  
  
“Your lover would have an easier time with that I would think.”  
  
Agron tried hard to control his temper, more than a little defensive now. “I can still manage.”  
  
“Very well; it is your choice.  My advice to you is play to your strengths Agron, and let Nasir play to his. The axe is in the back near a large stump. When you are finished you may take it with you and consider it your first tool. I have another.” Felda began to add the eggs and roots to a pot as well as some weed looking things.

 

“You said they were taken from you once. Your family?”  
  
“I had a husband who felt going to war protected his family. If the army fell, then our lives would forever change or be forfeit he said. He died in that war. His brother came to us for a while to help but… illness took him. Then the raiders came, put a knife to the children, and myself.” Her eyes lifted to his as he drew a sharp intake of breath. “I could not lie with you even if I wished it. I only desired to see a glimpse of passion and love again to help rest my soul. I saw that in you, in both of you.  Only those bearing such traits can hope to linger here long. You belong here it seems.” She wiped her hands on a cloth. “I will have breakfast soon for you, and a task if you are willing.”

 

“Speak the words, and I will consider it.”  
  
A smile formed though she did not taunt him further. “There are goats, many lost in the mountains. The hill you rested upon, near the bear, there is another hill in distant sight towards the sun in the afternoon. If you climb them, you will find what is left of the herd.”  
  
Agron scowled. “How do you know about the bear and that hill?”  
  
“Oma has been in these parts for some time. She is harmless to those who do not bring with them ill will, and the hill… it was once a site for lovers. It is fitting you would find it, most who understand love do.”

 

“And what about your protection?”

 

“Those men can manage during the day I am certain. You need only be here at night. Aside from tasks given, you may spend your days rebuilding the small house. I would start with wood if I were you, so you can get inside and let it dry.”

 

Agron nodded and returned to Nasir once the odd stew was presented. Meat, that’s what they needed too, meat for their meal although the eggs satisfied. Nasir, once awake, did not seem nearly as pleased with the offering, toying with the roots and herbs and eggs with his large spoon.  Agron guessed it was the herbs, something new for him. They both knew neither would complain when a belly could be filled with anything at all, but he recognized dissatisfaction when he saw it. He even offered a brief kiss to soothe the disappointment which left the smaller man peering at him quizzically. Once they were outside, Nasir questioned him.

 

“Did she not say anything about last night?”  
  
“She did. She was satisfied.”  


“The women of these lands, of your lands are strange to me.”  


“It is our land now, and yes, some of them are, though that one more so.” Agron shook his head. “We have assigned tasks. It seems she might be a goat herder, and they are near where we were yesterday.”

 

They ventured in that direction together for a bit before Nasir finally asked. “How does one herd goat?”  
  
Agron huffed a little. “Well, I would think we could maybe…”  
  
“Aaaa!” Nasir hissed almost immediately. “We are put to task and you do not even ask?”  


“They are goats Nasir. I am certain we can figure this out.”  
  
“If only it were me who could speak the tongue and leave you a brute with no words, we might find our days a little easier.”  
  
Agron gave Nasir a sideways glare as they continued through the grass rich and thick from the cooling season and rain. He hoped they could get back before rainfall that might make Nasir’s tongue lashing a little less sharp, shorten it even. “They are not much different than sheep I am certain, fucking sheep.”  


Nasir stopped abruptly in front of him, and it took all of Agron’s effort not to just ram right into him. Nasir glared up at him. “What is it with you and sheep? We have the entire world to think about and you seem pitted against sheep?”  
  
Agron grabbed his arm and pulled Nasir with him, not too harshly of course. “Keep moving. We should be done before rain and sun-down.” He paused, feeling sudden resistance. “And I will tell you as we go.” That at least got the smaller man moving again.  


Several minutes later, Agron ended his tale. “I tell you Nasir, they want to die, falling off cliffs, stumbling over holes and breaking their legs. Stupid animals with a death wish. Each day they sent me into that damn field, I found another dead or near dead. Wolves were the least of their problems. Idiot animals.”  


Nasir could hardly contain himself, snorting in his effort not to laugh. “And what about tilled earth, dare I ask about that?”  
  
“Fucking tools breaking. They tell me Agron hit the earth hard, so we can get those seeds deep. Splinters right in my fucking hand. It was the best day of my life to find sword in hand, purpose for strength and determination.” Agron’s voice trailed off a bit, sorrow returning as they made their way up the hill.

 

Nasir quieted himself as well, thinking about how things would have been so different had Agron found purpose with the earth or sheep. “Apologies Agron, I did not mean to bring you to sadness. I know if you had not traveled to war things would be better for you.”

 

Agron gripped Nasir’s shoulder so hard it was actually painful; Nasir hissed and turned to reproach the act but the man’s pale eyes stilled his tongue. “No, they would not be better. All paths led to you Nasir, your freedom, us meeting. I would not trade that for… anything.” Not even Duro, he knew. His brother would not want it; even he would understand. His brother died fighting for freedom. Who was to say had he lived Agron would find any desire to fill heart with another? “The man that went to war, and the man who left that ludus were not the same. He was not the man that could think of nothing else but you once I saw Spartacus unharmed and you against that tree, so pale, so weak, or the man that would kiss you when you emerged from that temple where I feared you might die. I would not change the path that led us here for anything.” Agron hurried ahead of him, and he knew that was not entirely fair. He had a long stride, and with strength returned to all but his hands, he would out pace Nasir any day. But he was not ready to shed tears in front of Nasir, not today.

 

Even though he did not look back, he eventually heard Nasir not far behind him when he finally spotted one the little bastards up a steep part of the hillside. How indeed would they lead the little shits down again? Nasir placed a hand on his shoulder, and thankfully, his love knew when not to engage certain subjects just now. “We could try leading them.”  
  
Agron looked at him, noting a smile in the other’s eyes which gave him so much relief he almost hid his complete disbelief for the idea presented.

 

“Well if we chase them, they could scatter everywhere. If these are Felda’s, then they must be use to people. Let me try.”  


Agron reached out for him but Nasir was already on his way further up. Agron stayed where he was, thinking how awful it was going to be to try and gather them up once the Syrian scared them all over the hillside. Although he could not hear what Nasir actually said, his voice was unmistakable, and then the smaller man began making his way down the hillside, goats following. Dumbfounded, Agron stood and just watched the trail of animals follow his lover down. Maybe he had not doubted the strength of their love, their bond from the moment Nasir bore the weight of his broken body upon release, but this had to be the first instant he began to think they might be able to do this, live life out here, away from battle. He did not, however, look forward to how smug this would make his little man, probably for days to come.

 

Not wanting to disturb whatever magic had formed here, Agron trailed the group from a good distance behind. There had to be fifty or so of these little creatures which seemed more than few as Felda suggested, more than a remainder of some greater number. No matter, they returned before dusk which gave him time to do the task offered but not requested, fire wood.

 

Nasir sat on a nearby log, watching Agron swing the axe over and over again. Getting the goats in their pen was easy enough, but finding it in so disheveled shape meant he spent some time mending the gate, getting water from the well and actually bandaging one of them while Agron had started this task. It was a good hour or so before he settled in to just watch Agron at work. Agron struggled a bit with the axe, it slipping from grip now and then though the man went slowly to prevent injury or risk.  But Nasir was patient, and Agron, despite quiet cursing completed the task, bringing in firewood for Felda, who only nodded to him and eventually retiring to the stall.

 

There he found Nasir busy with bread and cheese again. Agron rubbed his sore hands, dropping to his side. “Just imagine how nice this would have been with some meat.”

  
Nasir elbowed him roughly. “I told you. I will produce lost game.”

 

Part way through the meal, Agron stopped, lifting his gaze to Nasir’s satisfied expression and reached out, caressing his cheek and chin. “Nothing I would change that would lead away from this moment.”  
  
Nasir smiled, hesitantly. Agron struggled with voicing his thoughts and emotions between them. He was used to getting them as outbursts during or after an argument. “I would lift the pain and sorrow from your heart if only I had the power,” he replied.

 

Agron repositioned near the back of the stall, resting in a sitting position. He hardly lifted a hand to motion to Nasir when his lover had already resettled in the darkness alongside him, resting his head against his chest. “You have, many times over.”


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Nasir prepare for work and are put towards different tasks. Agron struggles with his new role in life, but for reasons unknown, those with him will not let him be with his dark thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we're about one or two chapters from the end for this. I already have ending in the mind. Once again, apologies for the lack of beta editing.

The next morning, Agron led Nasir to the small building they would call theirs, at least for a short time. Neither of them were strangers to claiming what had been someone else’s, taken forcibly or otherwise, so it would seem Agron would not worry to greatly about it except he felt his stomach twist in uncertainty just the same. He pushed the crooked door open with a frown, the mess, the mice and fallen roof still evident, but Nasir seemed delighted almost instantly. Even though it was but a single room dwelling, there was a table for two still intact, a place for a fire, a bed and room for a few things like the chest he was expecting, maybe a rug. If anyone asked him how he felt about making love on a soft fur, he would have threatened them on some level… but still figured out a way to get one of his own after one night’s experience. A grin formed once his lover went on and on about how they would shift things about, make room for candles. “Do not get too excited so soon, we have a lot of work to do. I am going to cut wood so we can fix that mess up there.” He pointed to where the roof had collapsed but in one corner. “And for this door.”

 

“And what should I do to help with this.”

 

“You little man have important task to tend to seeing how well you handled those goats.”

 

Nasir frowned slightly. “You send me to butcher them already?”  
  
Agron raised his brow just a bit. “No, although you must realize people who raise goats also eat them. Felda wants me to show you how to milk them. I cannot myself…” His eyes dropped to his hands, the fingers closing slowly though he knew they lacked the flexibility to grab a teat properly.  
  
Nasir took Agron’s hands in his, kissing each palm. “Show me then, and I take instruction, but only if you promise me not to work until your bones ache Agron. Your hands are fragile, still healing,” he implored with a worried expression.

 

“I promise.” Agron breathed in deeply, finding that word to describe him akin to a strike to the gut. Who would have ever called Agron fragile to anything? He managed to keep smiling though, for Nasir, and led him to the pen where he described the process and presented bucket. By the time he left him, Nasir had mostly had the hang of it and at least understood which one was the male.

 

Nasir busied himself with the goats, finding the creatures curious if a little bit amusing. They bleated and grazed on the overgrown grass readily. He realized with such a number, they would have to go to a field away from here, but at least a number of days this would suffice. It looked as if the animals had not been here in years. He could only surmise that Felda had not been able to keep up with the work and set them loose. Agron, of course, passed very little information to him, no doubt forgetting he could only garner pieces of their conversation. Still, he recognized great sadness in the woman’s eyes and a distance an almost indifference to life. How many times had he seen joy and sorrow over the past couple of years and how, how did he miss such emotions for so long the years before?

 

“You do well.” Felda was suddenly there, standing nearby. She had to be remarkably light on her feet though he supposed she was used to such work, during the good years. She continued, speaking slowly, purposefully in an effort to communicate with him. “Goats like Nasir. Goats respond, natural.”

 

Nasir smiled, standing though her hand quickly motioned for him to continue rather than approach her. He complied, not wishing to make trouble with the one who paid them. “Agron show how. He was patient.”  


Felda nodded though her smile indicated she knew how unlikely patience came with Agron. “Cream, cheese, milk. I show Nasir.”  


Nasir hesitated, glancing over his shoulder to see if Agron was around. It would be easier if the man could speak for him, or at least voice his wishes. Instead, he had tried on his own. After all, he spent some time in this region dealing with others and Agron himself even if he found the tongue difficult. “Agron easier, knows your tongue.”  


Felda shook her head. “Nasir to know. Nasir to learn.”

 

Nasir nodded after a pause. If their work entailed this skill, he should learn and could. The others taught him that, taught him he was capable of survival and battle, so much more than he would have believed just a handful of years ago; he would do this. One of the babies pressed against his leg, distracting him for a moment, and by the time he was done stroking the small creature, Felda was gone.

 

Near the hut Agron went to work getting the wood they needed for repair, and fire. He founded felled trees not yet rotted for fire, and other pieces already dried for the roof though he made more that would have to sit a bit out of the weather which he stacked inside. He broke his promise to Nasir, swinging that axe for a couple of hours, and then taking the time to go gather more supplies for the roof. He had a singular mind, and that was to have Nasir in his arms tonight, away from the smell of horses and hay. If that meant his hands bled for it, so be it.

 

Once off the roof, Agron entered the small hut to find Felda sitting at the table waiting for him. She looked him over, from head to toe. Impatient, quick to temper Agron would have mistaken that for a look of interest and an attempt for what was always voiced as not hers to have. The Agron that listened to the woman not long ago knew her interest meant something else which could only mean…

 

“If you break your body, do you think life for your lover will be easier?”  
  
Yes, that. Agron sighed, dropping the fire wood next to the fireplace where he began to restack the stone and ready the dry wood for fire. “I require no mother Felda. My mind is to purpose for this night, and I mean to have it.”

 

“You already know the sword, as does your friend. Those trees outside, they are not the enemy Agron. The more you strike them, they will not bleed more but you will.”  


He looked at the unnecessarily small piece sin his hand, annoyed but not ready to admit any fault with them. “You pay for my company, you offer shelter and a chance to…” Words failed him for but a moment. “But you will not scold me like some child. I am warrior, a gladiator, and I will not…”  


Felda stood but did not approach him. “Your body is home, but not your heart and not your spirit. There can be no peace in this place unless you bring it with you. There can be no calm here until you settle. And that means an axe is an axe, not a sword.” She neared the door. “I will have to travel soon, without you. Before I leave, I will show Nasir a few things. He is eager to learn as long as it pleases you. Our efforts should leave you with enough food for a while, and the chest I promised you is behind the stable, under some old hay. There are tools in there as well, old ones you can use and other trinkets. You are ready to have it here.” She paused in the doorway, eyes scanning the area. “This is fine to look at.”   


Agron cursed and threw a piece of wood against the wall as she left. What did she know about his heart or his spirit? They spoke but a few minutes, and why would he put effort into this place if his heart was not in it? By the time Nasir arrived, he was a least fuming less and drinking more.

 

**

 

Nasir noted almost immediately that Agron seemed to be in an ill mood again, but he purposefully avoided any mention of it, and instead entered with a little jug of milk in hand and more bread to put on the table. Without a word, he knelt down and began to gather the chewed up cloth and other refuses that still littered the hut’s floor. Agron closed distance, placing his arms tightly around Nasir and kissed his hair, that dark smooth hair he seemed to love. He whispered against Nasir’s ear. “Leave that. There is a clean spot in the corner…I worried that coming here would be difficult for you. It is away from all you know, all that we taught you. My people know immediately you are not from here.”  


“It is not away from everything I know Agron. I have you at my side.”  
  
The larger man was quiet, just watching the fire flicker before them. For a moment, Nasir thought he might have said the wrong thing, added burden when he meant to lift it. He turned to Agron, dark eyes searching light. “I can do better Agron. I know that I can. I will train in these tasks before us harder, and put mind to task to earn what we need.”  
  
Familiar hands lifted to his chin, and moved to caressing his cheek. Agron’s eyes sparkled with sorrow. Nasir expression shifted to worry and heartache immediately. Whatever happened this day, perhaps it meant they could not stay. “You have flourished here Nasir; I have seen evidence in all places we stay. At the farm where we left the children, at the homestead where Laeta found favor, even that damn fishing village, you were ready to settle.”

 

“Agron, I do not care about fishing villages or farms…”  


Agron did not let him finish. “You smile easily with others, standing over that fire with your fish on a stick.” Agron smiled, and Nasir had to smile with him even if this was to be their last night here. “I just did not expect the one to struggle here would be… me.”  
  
Nasir grasped Agron’s teary eyed face with both hands. “Agron.” Nasir kissed him tenderly. “Let me into your heart again. Trust me as you did before Sinuessa.”

 

“You are my heart. Trust had not faded.” Agron replied without pause. He closed his eyes, holding Nasir tight, almost too tight against him but Nasir voiced no opposition. “I did not ask you before, each time we left because I knew you would ask me why, why we had to go on, why we must continue.”  


“But I know Agron. Your people, your family are in this direction. We can continue our journey”

 

“If only that was the reason.”  


Nasir felt almost a panic enter him, swell up inside him like bile. This felt too similar, to akin to a forced parting that tore his world apart. “Tell me the reason then, tell me why you cannot settle with me, why you find this place and so many others so displeasing? I will not leave your side, forever at your side, but I would know so I can… I can try…”

 

Agron trailed his fingers through Nasir’s hair. “What right do I have to find happiness when so many found death? I lead them to that fate, alongside Spartacus, Gannicus even that fucking Gaul, and only I survive. I should have returned to the battlefield, died with them or ended it all on the cross as they did. I was meant to die in blood and battle.”  
  
Nasir hesitated, his brow crunching ever so slightly. “You feel guilty, guilty that we left when so many could not?”  
  
“Not we.” Agron’s distant gaze focused instantly and his voice seemed almost frightened. “Not you. You were meant to survive.”

 

“Only if you did. You knew when I gave you the shield I would follow you into battle and to death Agron. But I, I did not know when I called for you for help with Spartacus the act would weigh shoulders down forever.” Nasir stood, pulling away to add more wood to the fire while Agron simply watched him. “I wanted to help him as he helped me when wounded. But you survived the cross Agron, endured it long before all others. The gods sent you from it, back to us, back to me. I returned from death and so did you? Why does that not mean we are meant to be together? Spartacus believed every man, woman and child should be free or die in the attempt. Would he want all of us dead in that field and memories with it, the true story to be torn apart by Roman lies?” Nasir’s voice held a hint of anger at the end.

 

Agron hesitated. Nasir looked a fine thing before that fire, but the heartache he heard in his questions, the accusations and the fear and sorrow left him immobile for only a short time. He soon placed arms around Nasir’s shoulders before the smaller man actually apologized for being alive. “He would not fault us.”

 

“Why do you?”

 

Agron smiled, kissing his neck. “Because I am afraid. Because I am a fool.”

 

“My fool,” Nasir murmured. “Mine.”

 

Agron remained silent for a little bit, just listening to Nasir breathe, listening to life. “What do you think? Clean this place up, stay here for a little while?”  
  
Nasir pressed his face firmly against the large man’s shoulder hooked his arm around Agron’s neck. No further words needed.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron has made his decision, but is it enough to bring back the gentle giant Nasir knew before the cross and the death of their friends and family weighed him down?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually finished the story, but I have begun rewriting the rest of it. After this chapter, I really disliked the pacing which seemed a little more hurried and frenzied than my typical style. There might be more chapters than intended, but hopefully the ending fits better.
> 
> Once again, no beta so please forgive my careless mistakes. I hope they are not too jarring.

For a number of days, they became fleeting images from each other. Nasir would spend his hours tending the goats, and taking instruction from Felda on food preparation. Although he often found her making bread and cheese, she would always insist that they start anew, never let him finish her task began of which he did not fully understand nor not question openly. Instead he would work as requested and then make his way down to the little hut to clean up in the early evening, noting how quickly Agron had set mind to task and repaired the outer structure. At night, he would examine and clean the man’s hands, noting the blisters, the cracks of skin and redness that had to indicate pain or at least soreness. Agron never complained, allowed him to treat him without argument, most likely because each day the man broke his promise. Nasir wanted to stop this unnecessary stress on his body, but he noticed slight changes in Agron’s behavior that suggested he should not hinder these actions since they seemed to heal a part of his lover’s body he could not wrap in cloth or soothe with healing salve.

 

The chest Agron found and brought in, but it was old and dusty. Nasir spent the first night just airing out the blankets in there, tending to the blades of the various tools which were not too dissimilar from taking care of weapons and exploring a little with small things he did not fully understand, like a child’s toy. And each night, Agron would come in cursing about those guards.

 

“How can they call themselves protection when every night they stumble down that road, barely able to stand?”

 

Nasir tried to calm him by reminding that Felda had a choice of whom she would hire, and must have had her reason for these men. So far, the only threat either of them had seen in the area was the sighting of a lone bear and the guards themselves with whom they never broke words. Nasir strongly suggested Agron not speak to them since he knew what little patience and temper his lover had for others, and these he already disliked.

 

This evening, Agron gnawed on some bread Nasir made himself though he had to down a fair amount of wine in order to do so.

 

“I might have let over the fire a little long.”  
  
Agron smirked a bit. “Maybe a little. I will not complain. It fills the belly and is familiar in taste.” Nasir was reward with a quick kiss. Their eyes turned to the wine stores though which would require replenishment, meaning a trip to town may be in the future.

  
When Nasir joined him on the floor, Agron squeezed his shoulder firmly and hooked his other arm around his waist. “You said once you missed the luxuries of a body-slave. Now that we are nearing completion of repair, I would put mind to task if known how, what would make you feel so treasured?”  


Nasir sighed though he smiled glancing at Agron from the corner of his eyes. “I did not speak those words to have you pursue any wishes. I only said because you asked my feelings on the matter.”

 

“I remember time when you hardly spoke of feelings and seemed to have little opinion over revenge against Spartacus. Still, I desire a goal, something to achieve now this place is nearly repaired. It will keep me content to keep busy.”  


The smaller man hesitated. “I had nice things for my hair, my body for hot baths.”

 

“Oils yes, for skin and for other things, nice smelling ones.” Agron liked the smell of Nasir’s hair with just plain water, but he could adjust to whatever this desire entailed.  


Nasir nodded. He thought once that these topics would disturb him, bring about only sorrow and shame, but Agron’s intentions warmed his heart. “Yes, but I cannot see how you can make those.”  


“I can earn them. There will be traders in the area, eventually.” Agron was determined even, to fill a pouch with coin far faster than this woman could ever offer them. He stroked Nasir’s arm gently. “Few words have been broken between us about your past Nasir. You know of my homeland, my brother, my time as a gladiator but very little do I know about you.”  
  
Nasir rested against his shoulder. “There is little to say Agron. I do not remember my homeland, only fleeting moments of my brother, his voice with my name. I know I must have a father and a mother, but I do not know their faces or names, or if they live.”

 

“You said once you were not always with that squealing dominus of yours, will you tell me of it, of before?”  


He turned Agron’s palm, taking a moment to massage the sore area, frowning as he felt tension there and saw a little blood. The wounds were closed, so it had to be new scratches or splinters. Gently, he worked the muscles there, applying a cloth to blot small amounts of blood. “I would not darken evening with such words.”  
  
“I would hear of your past Nasir, as you have heard mine.”  
  
“I was trained to become a house slave from a child. When to lower my eyes, when to speak, always to follow commands. I came to dominus not long after training.”  


“How young?”  
  
“Agron…”  


“How young.”

 

He drew a breath, worried more about Agron’s response than any pain from lingered memories that would arise. “I… I do not have an age that I know. I was not yet grown when I was purchased, and was grown in body when he first called for me.” Agron’s body tensed though Nasir tried to soothe him gentle touches and words. “He did not favor children for sex Agron, and I was… prepared for when he desired me.”  


“By him?”  
  
“By instructors, teachers like how you were trained to fight with swords.”

 

“So your dominus took you at his leisure, what about others?”  
  
Nasir turned to face him, gazing into his pale green eyes without hesitation. “When he wished it. I took him more often than he took me though he would have cut my tongue for saying so. He trusted me in nearly all things.”  


“Except your freedom.”  


“Except that,” Nasir confirmed. “In time, he might have grew tired of me, as I aged, perhaps found another. I do not know. I made myself useful in other ways. That guard I killed, was known to me.”  
  
“And he was ready to kill you for one false word.”  


Nasir smirked ever so slightly. “So he was and became my first kill as result. I did not mourn his passing.”

 

Agron kissed him gently, stroked his neck and exposed chest. “You are not weighed down by this any longer.”  


“Tiberius died with that guard, Nasir reborn. I consider past sometimes, but I found someone who loved me as Nasir and does not seem to… mind my skills in some areas. Once Nasir became another’s heart, the rest is but distant memory, a shadow.”  


Agron laughed lowly. “Oh I mind. I would kill any fucking Roman that would cross path with me because of it and more, but I admit there are advantages to such skilled fingers and tongue.”  


Nasir lifted Agron’s hands. “Advantage to all fingers, all hands.”

 

Agron swallowed, if a bit nervous about the turn of their conversation. “I slowed down today. I know I broke faith with you when I said I would not push my body. I just needed to prove something to myself.”  
  
“And did you?”  
  
Agron looked up at the repaired roof, straightened door, and chest. “Yes.”

 

He received a weak smile in return. “Then rest with me for a bit. Felda has made a request for tonight.”  


Agron growled lowly. “Again?”  
  
“It has been many days Agron, and our bargain is only now blossoming.” Agron moved to stand but Nasir used no small amount of strength to force him to either throw him in attempt or remain in place.  Reluctantly, Agron returned his gaze to Nasir’s steady eyes. “We accept burden together, not apart,” came the gentle reminder. Agron nodded shortly and then stared at the fire.

 

At some point, Agron drifted off to sleep and did not wake again until the sun nearly set. He found Nasir kneeling over a steaming bucket of water, sprinkling what looked like leaves into it. Agron shifted to stand, but Nasir chastised him. “Stay, I would wash you before we go the house.”  


Agron sniffed. “I thought I smelled fine.”  
  
Nasir giggled, carrying the large bucket over to him with no difficulty, his warrior’s body still serving him well. “That is not always the purpose of a bath Agron.”  


“Yes it is, for cleaning.”  


“And soothing and relaxation and rest.”  


“Rest would turn the water cold.”  


“Yes, I suppose in these settings, but not Roman baths.” He kneeled near Agron, dipped a clean cloth in the hot water and then began to apply it to his lover’s neck, shoulders and back.

 

“Is that… lavender?”  
  
Nasir opened his mouth to speak but just smiled and then laughed.

 

“You would have me smell as a woman,” Agron hissed with false irritation. The hot water did feel… nice.

 

“I had few choices. Anyone who claims you a woman would be a fool and then likely dead.” Nasir moved to his chest, pausing over the raised flesh there. “Certainly not the body of a woman.” His lips trailed where the cloth lingered causing a growl of pleasure. “Or the sound of one.”  


“Are you to cleanse me or torture me?”  


Nasir moved down to his abdomen and thighs. “Can I not do both?”

 

“You said the woman had want of us this evening. It would not do to be spent before she sees us.”  
  
Nasir lifted cloth to his face, running it along his jaw and the areas where his shadow continued. Those dark brown eyes reflected not only desire but a certain amount of control. “I promise you Agron, if you are spent during the task of your cleansing, I have ways to harden you again.”  


Agron suddenly grabbed his hand with purpose, squeezing firmly, breathing in deeply. “No, no Nasir. I would save this for a night that is our own, ours alone.” Nasir furrowed his brow in sadness but nodded, turning away though Agron had not returned his hand to him. Instead the man pulled him closer. “Please finish your cleansing, just not your teasing.

 

Nasir continued then, his heart beat slowing as he continued. Agron’s fingers moved along his shoulders, his hair and his cheek until alas the chin was lifted and Nasir spoke before being asked to do so. “There was a time when your blood ran hot for me, when you could not stop kissing me and or even stand watch for a short time…”  


“Time has not ended,” Agron assured. “Gods help me, I would have you now, lips against mine, fingers along your spine, to hear you hiss in pleasure and move beneath and beside me.” His right hand made a partial fist at the very thought. “But I would not have memory stained by presence of another.”  
  
“She is not here Agron.”  
  
“But we will have to leave to join her instead of mingle together in rest and warmth before the fire. “

 

Nasir finished removing grime and dirt from Agron’s form, setting the cloth back in the bucket. His expression was thoughtful and the sorrow and anger quickly washed away as he understood Agron’s mind. “Then you would have us do this again?”  


Agron nodded. “With intended results, and soon.”  


The smaller man smiled again, a quick gesture that lit up his face as his heart too was lifted. This meant that Agron did not dislike the thought. “I look forward to it.”  


Agron stood, drawing Nasir to him, kissing his brow and hugging him tightly. “I understand your doubts Nasir. I gave reason for them to rise. I would have them vanquished again. I will prove you have no reason to worry. My heart will never beat for another, and were my mind not set to other purposes, I would not part from your beautiful body and could spend my days worshipping it.”

 

Nasir threw his arms around him, holding him tight. “I shall ever love you Agron.”  


Agron smiled against his neck. “Good, because I do not think any other would take a gladiator who smells of lavender. Come, let us find this woman and satisfy whatever empty hole she is trying fill with our love.”  
  
They ventured towards the house, Nasir squeezing Agron's hand just a little before letting it fall to his side. “You speak of her so ill, do not even use given name. Do we not owe her so much?”  


“We do, which is why I go, and for you.”  


“For us,” Nasir corrected.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the house, Nasir and Agron make an unusual discovery and begin questioning all that has occurred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This did not flow as well as I hoped, but I did have a lot of fun with the Epilogue!
> 
> Per usual, no beta reader, so apologies for that.

When they neared the house, Nasir paused raising a torch, frowning as there were no lights nor the whinny sounds of the horses in the stable. By the time he looked back towards the hut and made a circular visual check, Agron had drawn his sword. He could tell the man was puzzled by the weight of it, he even tilted the hilt to the side but they had no time to break words. Something was amiss.

“Stay here.” Agron placed a hand upon his shoulder. “I will return shortly.”

Nasir threw his hand to the side and hissed at him angrily. “I will not be set aside Agron, to wait in the protection of the shadows why you face danger alone.”

“Nasir I only meant…”

“When time presents, let us compare battle scars and see who presents the more able-bodied. Perhaps you should wait behind, that wagon over there.” Nasir drew his sword, having left his spear at the hut and moved forward hissing again and not looking back. No further argument fell between, not now when danger remained yet unknown. He pushed open the door first, peering into the darkness but saw nothing, no hint of Felda or any other unknown.

Agron nodded to him, and moved ahead, stepping into the room quickly after Nasir’s quick look, ready for battle though none presented itself. The fire looked cold with no sign of the woman. They had never ventured further than these two wall less rooms, but he spoke quietly to Nasir. “Check the rooms in the back… please. And you said she was not to leave until later?”

Nasir nodded. “And she asked for our presence tonight.”

As his smaller lover moved to investigate the back, Agron walked around the familiar room though he started noticing peculiar signs. The bench along the wall had a layer of dust on it, as if it had not been stirred for some time. The fur they laid upon, so soft and well memorable, looked as if it had seen at least a dozen winters, and as he neared the jars on a shelf nearby, webbing and dust had gathered. He did not recall seeing this before, any of it. This house had been warm and inviting but the day before.

Nasir reappeared, weapon at his side. “Agron, it does not look as if anyone has been here in years. I do not understand.”

The taller man reached out, grabbing a small wooden doll in the corner, the dust thick upon body and limb alongside red stains. Felda said she lost her children to the knife of others, ruined herself in the attack.

Nasir turned around. “This room is different. It was… clean this morning. I made bread on that table, and cream in that…” He began to wonder if the wine had been tainted, but if so would they have not died days ago?”

Agron motioned for Nasir to come nearer him, and this time Nasir did so without argument or pause. “Come.”

They checked the stables, empty, and looked as if no animal had been stored there in years, but the goat pen, those beasts remained and responded when the two neared. Finally, they made their way back to their hut which stood as they left it, a low fire, and a loaf of bread half eaten their wine cups still on the floor. The tall German felt torn. A part of him wished to flee this place, to find somewhere else to go and leave this eeriness behind them. Another part of him, the part that had awakened here was not so quick to leave behind what he just restored, the home that he would call theirs, and take Nasir back on an endless journey that could lead to nothing but faded memories long since gone at the end.

“Should we…” Nasir’s eyes shifted from the ground and lifted to meet Agron’s gaze. There was no fear there, just uncertainty, as many questions as Agron felt, and want for direction. “Should we leave?”

“Maybe, but I would not have it so.”

“Spirits? Did you, did you ever touch her, she ever touch you?”

Agron shook his head. “I would think you would have, under instructions.”

Nasir sighed. “No, she was… odd about me touching her work, and though she was near I never…” His brow furrowed again.

Slowly, Agron sank to the floor and leaned against the door. He had no intention of moving from it, to keep danger out at least till dawn broke though he was not surprised to soon find Nasir seated beside him. He placed his sword near and used his free hand to draw Nasir against him. “I know not what this is, but I would have you rest with me here if you are able.”

The distant gaze in Nasir’s eyes suggested that sleep might not come for either of them this night, so Agron placed his sword on his knees, fingers toying with the leather wound tight around the hilt until the first rays of sun peaked from under the door.

It seemed Nasir did find some rest, and for that, Agron was grateful. He meant to keep that door closed, to prevent whatever foul creatures might arise from this strange little nightmare they found themselves in on the other side of the door or die trying. Instead, after he stirred and helped his lover arise and stepped out into the world, it seemed as it should be. The sun had risen partially covered by spineless clouds, goats moving about the pen, stripping the area of every flower, weed and precious grass, and a wind, a gentle breeze that reminded all that the cooling seasons had come. Sword in hand, Agron ventured back to the stables, to the house, and the general vicinity finding it much in the status that they found last night, as if no one had lived there in many years, the only signs of life those he and Nasir had placed there themselves. And for the next day and then the next, an uneasy quiet settled between them until alas Nasir took bucket in hand and began to clean the main house, troubled by what happened but determined to tend to the goats and home until they discovered what else they should do. Twice he suggested they go searching for Felda, to find the woman or her guards. Gently, Agron discouraged this but did not disallow the idea outright and risk a fight. “Nasir,” he said. “I do not think she was ever here.” And when he said those words the second time, the look of sadness and loneliness pulled at his heart powerfully. So much so that the following day he gave up the unending urge to stockpile firewood, hunt or otherwise seek survival and spent the day with Nasir, scrubbing floors, beating old blankets with sticks and finally kneading bread. Of course he had no talent for any of it, and actually managed to drop a chunk of bread they wound up cooking and tossing to the goats instead, but the warmth returned those eyes and unease lifted from back and shoulders made the effort well worth it.

On the fourth day, as he tended to part of a fence he thought a young billy had begun practicing against with his head, one he would see to meal once Nasir stopped fussing over every little creature, he saw a rider coming. Agron wasted no time in dropping the wood, grabbing the axe as it was the closest thing he had nearby for a weapon while his sword rested against the house.

The man did not seem especially aggressive if a bit surprised to see them. “I have come a long way. It has been sometime since I have been here. Neither of you have I seen before, not here or anywhere. From where do you come?” The man looked like Felda, but a number of years older, his face harsher and weary, and his eyes a spitting of hers. 

Nasir hesitated but spoke for them, knowing he was could at least be friendly with strangers until they proved themselves unworthy of the kindness. “Apologies. We come long distance and were invited to stay by the woman Felda.” He hesitated, only a moment, considering their doubts about the woman’s existence and prayed to the gods his words would hold meaning and sound true.

The man regarded them both for a few moments. “Can you describe her to me?”

Agron spoke in fine detail about her hair, her eyes and even her dress in ways Nasir did not know his lover took note of such things. He felt a fool for saying it, the Syrian could tell by the way he glanced to the side now and then. For all they knew, they spoke of some tricksters, some phantom. “And an easy smile.” 

The man dismounted and grabbed a chunk of moist earth. “Felda and I grew up here together. Though I was her brother many years apart, we could not have been closer had we been pulled from the womb on the same day? My father failed at everything in life, and succumbed to wine and anger after our mother left this world. She dreamed that this place would be one of beauty and loving memories one day.”

He stood walking to the door and peering in. “Her husband went to war, and her heart broke when no word returned. I watched her fade until alas I bid my wife good-bye, and I went to the front to find him, any word of him for her, and I gave her funds to hire guards to assist while I was long gone. Struck by an arrow they said, right through an eye. All but nameless, unremarkable and barely remembered by his allies. That was the legacy he left behind.”

His eyes shifted to the sword lying against the house. 

Nasir motioned. “Please, you look tired. Rest inside…”

His expression turned sorrowful, an expression as painful to watch as it was to feel as he shook his head. “She and her children were put to knife by the men hired with my coin. I found her three days after the deed upon my return; she clung to life just long enough to make me promise to try and realize her dream here, but I broke faith. On my way home I found her guards, those wretches that turned on her in their drunken stupor. I have never seen men so torn from flesh as that bear did them, it dying alongside them.”

“We saw the bear. I do not understand how this can be. She was just here… and the men. She made food and gave us tools. She taught Nasir our language and told us where the goats were...”

He laughed lowly.

Nasir leaned forward. “Why does he laugh?” By now the Syrian had trouble following the conversation as they spoke so quickly.

“I searched for seasons for those damn animals. It was the only thing I could bring myself to try and do for her and not tear heart from breast in doing so. I could never find them. People would talk about the missing herd, but they would always elude. Hunters claimed if they got to close to tracking them, a bear would chase them away. We thought them fools.” He straightened himself. “You have mended so much, found the animals, and know of Felda as I knew her in life. It seems she wanted you here. I only come here during the cool season to restock supplies as I did a few weeks ago for travelers. She cared about those without a place to settle, wanted to see them warm and fed always...” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I am Eckbert, and I would have you stay if you wish to; it is yours. My heart would be lifted to know this place that holds only misery and sorrow for me is valued by others.” Eckbert rubbed his travel weary face. “But I do not know what to do to lay her to rest, if she lingers here still.”

“It has been done.” Agron interrupted, with more certainty in his voice than even he knew he was capable of. He breathed in deeply, tightened his fist and clenched his jaw, all signs of impending emotions Nasir knew would not be openly shown to some stranger. “They are at rest, you have my word.”

“And whose word would that be?”

“Agron’s, and this is Nasir of Syria.”

Eckbert looked between them and nodded. “I would go then. I would return to my wife and beg for her forgiveness for being so aloft for so long and never able to fully tell her why. Perhaps this time, I can truly tell her what happened.”

Once he fell from sight, Nasir turned to Agron. “I wish I understood all that was said, and that I understood gods and spirits. I do not know what to believe.”

Agron drew Nasir close, pressing lips against his forehead. “Believe we are home, and I will never leave your side again.”


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were promises made, and they just have to be fulfilled.

Agron looked up from his favored task, cutting wood to have Nasir unceremoniously drop large portions of a dead animal at his feet, two haunches and a side it looked like “What is this?”

“Promised deer.” Nasir looked pleased with himself, even bundled up tight in furs while the snow flurried around them and only his face could be seen. He had gone out that morning, and gone for several hours though it felt a great deal longer. But Nasir knew the area well, was trained in killing more than a few almost helpless animals and… Agron had to trust him. “You are many days late in promise kept, and only partially delivered. Where is the rest of it?”

Nasir gave him a light punch on the arm. “I gave no day only that I would see meat delivered. And...” He looked a bit sheepish. “You might have been right when you told me to tell you if I hunted. It seems I cannot carry as much as I thought.”

Agron laughed and followed him inside, helping him unbundle; the furs were coated in rapidly melting snow. “You meant to surprise me.”

“And please you. I have not caught large game alone before.” Once freed of his burden, Nasir ran his fingers through his hair and paused, sniffing the air. “Is that, is that lavender?”

Agron cupped his cheek and kissed him warmly. “Surprised and proud. Yes, why yes it is. Come.” He took Nasir’s hand and pulled him to the back room where nearly all things had been emptied and in the center was a large round wooden structure filled with water that steamed, essentially an extended bucket. Nasir peered into the water, seeing the evidence of lavender as well as numerous hot stones in the bottom topped with weighted wooden slabs.

Nasir grinned. “You fashioned this?”

Agron huffed. “You are not the only one of clever mind.”

Nasir smiled up at the man and then pulled him down for a kiss. “No, certainly not the only one. This had to take you many days.”

“Weeks actually, and most the day to fill and heat. I fear it may not stay as hot as a Roman bath.”

Nasir began as he usually did when taking path towards a pleasurable outcome, with ridding Agron of his clothes. “Vanquish Romans from mind; I could not be more pleased or excited.”

Once they were stripped of their garments, Agron settled into the water and Nasir sat atop of him, resting his back against his chest. There was not a lot of extra room but enough to afford some movement. As Nasir settled, he caught another familiar scent and then felt it as it was poured onto his shoulders and back, his skin still aching from the cold. “Chamomile oil.”

Agron paused, his breath warm against the smaller man’s neck. “I have two others if this does not please.”

Nasir shook his head. “It is most pleasing. Then you did well in trade?”

“Yes, it seems I bargain better this time around.” And for several minutes, it was quiet, just the sound of Agron’s slick fingers working the muscles loose and pressing lips against shoulder.

“I had intended to seduce you with water and scents Agron. It seems I will have to reconsider my strategy.”

“Breathe.”

“Hmmm?”

“All you have to do is breathe to seduce me Nasir.” He laughed quietly but Agron gripped his chin and turned him so they might kiss and speak face to face. Agron’s expression suggested seriousness. “Even when you were pale and clinging to life I wanted you, to hold you, to kiss you, to know your warmth. I had to force mind ahead of body and heart to allow healing.”

Nasir entwined his fingers with Agron’s slick digits. “I must have looked dreadful in that forest. I cannot imagine why you still think of it after all this time, after so much has happened since, more injuries more memories.”

“Because seeing you alive, receiving your smile, changed my life forever. Before that I knew I wanted you, but only after did I know my heart had been taken and would never be returned.”

Nasir kissed him and stood, turning towards the man, water clinging to his dark skin and hair, reflected by candle light until he lowered again, sitting on Agron’s lap facing him. He began to kiss his lover again, running fingers through his short hair, along his shadowed jaw and nipping his chin. “I would show you another… skill,” he murmured. Agron’s mumbled response became inaudible when their lips met again. Nasir gazed into those loving eyes; he lowered himself purposefully, parting his ass cheeks and guiding the man’s cock inside him. There was oil in the water, and he brushed his fingers over Agron’s cock earlier, but water was not the most ideal location for the joining of two bodies, any body slave knew that and would try to avoid the experience… except he was not just any body slave. He was a warrior now, and the brief amount of pain as he sank slowly atop his lover’s eager cock became overshadowed by Agron’s drawn out moan and the sensation of being filled by another who loved him. Once fully settled and their eyes met again, broad smiles covered their faces.

Agron breathed deeply, sometimes amazed how quickly fire burned inside him for Nasir once the man led him towards heated path. “Now what little man?”

Nasir hissed at him, bit him hard enough on the chin to draw a little blood. “Do not call me that. I have let you get away with grievous insult because of injuries, but no more.” He pushed Agron back a bit so the man’s shoulders were pressed against the wood and could be used for control. “Now I ride you.” And he did just that. 

This position did not give the Syrian a wide range of motion or ability to reach speed quickly, but what he lacked was made up for by the rhythm of his body. He worked his stomach muscles, far stronger than they had ever been when he was just a pretty boy, to exaggerate his muscles, his minute curves, lifting and lower in an almost swaying gesture that mimicked a dance. He even hummed slightly, almost without realizing it, setting a beat to a piece that was performed during one of the few exhibitions he had been required to participate in. That memory, he took possession of, claimed away from the Romans to use as an act to please his moaning lover, his grunting gladiator. He felt Agron’s hands move up his sides and back, caressing him as he moved although Agron made no attempt for control. He could see his lover’s light eyes watch him mesmerized when he was not moaning his lust or this close to requesting more. When Nasir thought the man might have gained a few of his senses back, he squeezed his internal muscles around Agron’s pulsing flesh and was quickly rewarded with high pitched gasps and a tighter grip around his waist.

Agron leaned forward, pressing his lips against his breast, circling his nipple and then moving to the scar just below. Sensation there was minimal outside of pressure and pain, but the focus itself stirred Nasir. Agron desired all of him, his imperfections, his sometimes equally lit temper, his challenges and his past. “Turn a little to the side,” Nasir whispered, and when the large body beneath him did just that, he felt the fire inside him kindle and it left him breathless. For a moment, they just breathed, the hot water around them still until Nasir regained wit enough to continue. 

In past experience, the Roman that Nasir would ride would lie back and simply enjoy the attention, the show if not the act itself. It did not fully surprise him when Agron, whose body had not weakened a great deal since they create a few makeshift targets near the house, suddenly held him firmly and thrust upward. Nasir cried out at the unexpected sensation and pleasure from it.

“Did I…?” Agron’s worried voice broke through. 

“Do not fucking stop.” Nasir’s rebuke had more bite than intended, but his pulse pounded in his ear, and everything felt warm, tight and full. 

They moved together, sloshed some water on the floor until at last Nasir threw his head back and exclaimed his release, spilling seed into the water. Agron eased him down with gentle touch and fine words until Nasir opened his eyes, grinned, and renewed effort even with weary limbs. A few well places squeezes and another bite on the jaw sent Agron tumbling into bliss not long after.

For a few moments, silence dominated between them, but Nasir managed to stand on shaky legs until Agron was beside him. They managed to get out of the water, dry and head to the bed the cold winter biting at them even from inside. Under the furs, Nasir placed his cheek against Agron’s large chest and sighed softly. “Apologies, I led your water to ruin.”

“A little matter to empty and get more,” Agron murmured. “And I would do it again soon.”

Nasir grinned.

“Again you astound me Nasir. I did not know you, well that was…” 

Maybe Agron sounded a bit foolish to some, but he supposed a young man thrust into the world of war and gladiators and war again would not have as many experiences with the art of the body as someone like Nasir had. “I only capture memory and make it mine again.”

“And I would have many more memories like that one.” Agron stroked his hair and his voice became gentle again, as did his touch. “Sometimes your hand moves to your scar, pain remembered?”

Nasir took Agron’s hand and kissed the dark circular wound. “Such white pain will never be forgotten only dampened in time, as I imagine you know, but I would not have you erase it from your mind if that is the moment I gained your heart.”

Agron watched him kiss his wound again and again. “These wounds and the scars that linger made us who we are. I would not change you even if Donar was right, and you bare fucking teeth often against me.” He laughed quietly, pushing aside Nasir’s quizzical look. “The little black goat you were worried about. How is he doing?”

“I too will embrace memory again then and hold tight.” Nasir closed his eyes, finding it easy to be coaxed to sleep by caressing strong hands. “His mother rejected him but another doe has taken him in as hers.” He paused, only somewhat hesitant to continue. “Castus is strong, stronger than the other bucks. I think he will make fine breeding stock if… if it all right with you.”

Agron smiled, it could be heard in his words and the rumbling in his chest as he shook his head. “I shall never be fucking rid of him, but I cannot think of anyone better to protect our new herd when I am not there to do so with my own hands.”

Nasir smiled and fell asleep as he did the first night they came to Felda’s home, fed, warm, safe and free, only these days, it seemed he was finally rooted in place with the man he was meant to grow old with in a place they were predestined to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the mini-series that popped into my mind shortly after finishing the show.


End file.
